


Challenge ficlet #13

by ninamalfoy



Category: Football RPF
Genre: M/M, unbetaed
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-07-19
Updated: 2010-07-19
Packaged: 2017-10-10 16:24:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,215
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/101735
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ninamalfoy/pseuds/ninamalfoy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Prompts: 'alone', 'perfect' and 'lucky'<br/>OTP: the Schweinski</p>
            </blockquote>





	Challenge ficlet #13

**Author's Note:**

> First posted on LJ on December 11th, 2006.
> 
> Not true in the least bit. I'm just borrowing their public persona to play.
> 
> Challenge ficlet for miman.

The room's full with bustling people, the stark blonde of Verena flashing in the spotlights over there, Olli next to her, a hand on her hip, and she's smiling up at him. But Bastian's not really looking for them, he's looking for a different kind of blond, and - yes, over there. Monika's sitting at the table's end, nursing a glass of something sparkling - the champagne, probably - with Lukas next to her, leaning over to her, whispering something in her ear, and she's smiling.

They look like a happy couple. Bastian's grip on his beer stein tightens. They do look like the _perfect_ couple, her delicate prettiness setting off Lukas' broadmuscled physique, and she's now bending towards him, her light blonde hair spilling over his shoulder, laughing at something he has just said.

Suddenly Bastian wishes for nothing more than to be able to sit like that next to Lukas, to laugh at whatever he said, to touch him without having to check if anyone'd see them, if anyone's even in their near vicinity. And, maybe, just to plant a kiss on his cheek. Or hug him. Let his arm rest over Lukas' shoulders, leaning into him. And their fingers would entwine just like that, in open view of everyone on the table, right there.

But it's Monika who's taking Lukas hand in hers, and the Pole's smiling at her, and Bastian finally averts his eyes. It's of no use.

It could never happen.

He lifts the stein to his lips, the coolness of wheat beer rushing down his throat, and then he's licking his lips clean of the clinging foam. It's not really enough - he'd need some strong stuff, like vodka or something, to make himself forget. About everything. About Lukas. Lukas and him.

"Are you okay, Basti?" Daniela. She's sitting next to him, a faint worry line on her forehead. Other than that, she's looking great, a low-cut top with little rhinestones sprinkled all over it and underneath a white skirt with many folds, going just to her knees. Bastian hasn't met any other girl yet who can dress as well as Daniela and isn't a stick-thin thing like some other women, but with great curves and her sense of humor is pretty good. And she's in love with him. What more does a guy want? _But you want the impossible_, something in his head sneers.

He shakes his head, shrugs. "Yeah, never better."

Her small hand touches his thigh. "Really? You seemed a bit distant just then."

She does know him pretty well. Bastian shakes his head and smiles at her. "But now I'm here, aren't I?" He winks at her and then he's putting down the stein on the table and gets up. "I'm going for little boys," he whispers into her ear, "have fun."

Daniela grins. "Don't get lost, you."

"I'm not like you women who can't go alone to the restroom," Bastian retorts, and then he's pushing through the throng of people clustering in the middle of the room, still dimly remembering where the restrooms were from previous parties, and right he is. As always, there's a line in front of the women's restrooms, girls and women chatting and giggling, their perfume clouds making him almost gag.

In the men's restroom, there's some other guy standing alone at the one end of the urinals. Bastian choses the other end and breathes in deeply as the stream of urine hits the porcelain. Fuck, he had needed that.

Then he's standing at the washing basin, the bubbles of the soap disappearing with the warm rinse of water when the door opens behind him, thumping him in the back. "Oh, sorry - Schweini! There you are!"

Lukas slaps him on the back, grinning at him. "I was searching for you and Dani told me that you had to take a piss."

Bastian nods, returning the grin as he cleans his hands with paper towels he has pulled out of the dispenser. "As you see, I'm now finished. Why did you need to find me? The party getting too boring?" and he jerks his head at the closed door.

Lukas shakes his head. "Nah. Just missed you," and he's winking at Bastian, his hand tightening on the midfielder's shoulder. Lukas' cheeks are still a bit flushed - it's pretty warm in the room out there, all these bodies together - and he's wearing a clean white shirt with something fancy printed in black on the lower right side, something floralsprawling, the latest craze, and Bastian remembers that he had picked it out the last time he was shopping with Lukas.

"You seemed pretty cosy with Monika when I last saw you," Bastian says, chucking the wet and crumpled-up towels into the trash and turning around to face Lukas. The other guy that was in here before has already went out, although Bastian can't remember when. It's just the two of them in here as no one is in the stalls, all their doors open.

"What is your problem, Basti?" Lukas asks, frowning. His hand slides off Bastian's shoulder into his own jeans' pocket - a feat that seems almost impossible considering they seem to be _painted_ on Lukas' thighs.

Bastian sighs, leaning back against the basin, the porcelain wetcool under his fingers. "I don't know." Lukas is still looking at him, but now there's something else in his eyes. Something that Bastian recognizes, but can't name. Doesn't want to.

And then Lukas hand settles on his jaw, the thumb caressing, and then his mouth is on Bastian's, softsure. And it's perfect, even in such an awkward location where they could be easily caught, and this thought sends a little shiver up Bastian's spine. The Bavarian sighs into the kiss, tasting pretzel and lemonade, and he can almost sense the struggle Lukas fights to not deepen the kiss, to not give in to it and just have his way with Bastian, but to keep it up like this, easy and sweet.

When Lukas finally releases Bastian and steps back, a faint smile graces his lips. "It's just what it is, Basti," he says. And suddenly everything's right again, with the world and with Bastian, and he grins at Lukas. "Come on, let's head back," but before he opens the door, his hand sneaks around to squeeze Lukas' posterior, the curves fitting perfectly into his hand, and then the loud music engulfs them again, and over there is Rense, yelling something and gesturing for them to come over, and Lukas' fingers entangle briefly with Bastian's, a quick tightening, and then they fight their way through the throngs, Lukas right behind Bastian.

Later on, when they're sitting next to each other in a quieter corner of the room in front of a table with beer glasses in various states of emptiness, Bastian smiles to himself in the mirror of the bar right across them. Suddenly he feels Lukas' knee nudging his. "What?" the Pole whispers, "see anything funny?"

"No," Bastian replies, "I see us."

"And what's so special about that?" Lukas replies, now having caught Bastian's eyes in the mirror and winking back at him.

"I think we're pretty lucky," Bastian says, grinning, and then his hand finds Lukas' own and he squeezes it, their identical grins in the mirror broadening.


End file.
